Big Bad "Cease & Desist"

Well, an email from two luvulee ladies was in the inlawssuck email inbox indicating that M.I.L.D.E.W. and all the love and joy associated with said jumble of letters is under copywright. As such, I must remove all associations of said letters and the reference to what they mean from this blog.

That also means changing the web-address, which will eventually be http://mildue.blogspot.com.

So, if you still have links to this site, make the changes now. I'll also update with an automatic redirect to where we are now posting, http://inlawssuck2.wordpress.com later on as well.

And I have to say, based on the email and it's tone, I would take sides with their mothers-in-law.

New Digs

In Laws Suck

No. 1 - First Installment...Huh, What?

I received an email from a reader who mentioned that they couldn't find the first installment of the anonymously published MILDEW stories. In what can only be described a major brain-fart, in my attempt to publish No. 2, I accidently republished No. 1. So I went back in and instead of correcting No. 1's date, it looks like I deleted the whole post instead, since in my frustration with Blogger and how long it was taking to maneuver around the site, I got careless.

Crap.

I'm sorry. So sorry.

I could go out and recreate the post...OR....you can send me MORE stories and we'll publish some new stuff.

Yes, I'm a complete tool. No wonder my MIL doesn't like me.

No. 2 - 2nd Installation. Keep'em Coming!

#11. The last time my MIL came to "visit" we had to kick her out. I am that evil. She was going to come for a week. During the course of the week she was rude and sneaky. We had a nice meal planned and she fixed a plate and headed to the den. We told her that we planned on eating at the table like a family. "That's nice but my show is on." she said over her shoulder as she walked away. We ate at the table alone.

It got to the point where she would stay home all day while we were at work and then leave when she knew we were coming home. She would go shopping and out to eat and not come home until she thought we were in bed. She was avoiding us because she likes her alone time and was just using us as a place to stay. (she had been temporarily staying with her vile mother and so was using us as an out essentially)

On the night before she was supposed to be leaving she told DH she wanted to stay one more day. This happened every night for four more nights. Only saying something to my husband and only in passing on the way to bed. If she had come to us and said, "I'm thinking about staying another week, is that ok?" We would have welcomed her with open arms...but the way she did it was sneaky. If she didn't want to go back to her mother's house she could have just told us and it would have been fine for her to stay with us.

Nice ended Thursday night. He prevented me from throwing her out but I told him I was doing it the next morning. He got up super early and had her out before I got up so he could do it nicely. I still don't regret it.

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#12. I don't claim to be a great cook. I can make a few things and I can open cans/boxes with the best of them. However, I am fairly intelligent and have sufficient common knowledge. Apparently my MIL thinks I can not cook at all. Even though her son has consistently put on weight since we have been married. But whatever. She invades my kitchen. Every. Time. She. Visits. Without fail. She tries to "teach" me how to make his favorites and corrects everything I do. If I make something she will tell me that isn't how they do it or she will tell me why my way is wrong.

We decided to make barbecue chicken one night when my MIL was visiting most recently. I usually bake the chicken and when it is done I add the barbecue sauce and cook another 5-10 minutes. As I pull the chicken out of the fridge, she comes in and takes charge. Tells me to put oil in the pan. So I go and put a bit of oil in the pan. She makes noises under her breath and snatches the oil out of my hand. She puts a good inch of oil in the bottom of the large skillet. She breads and Fries the chicken. I imagine she has changed her mind about barbecue chicken. I go along with it.

Then, she decides that since I am such a dunce she should ask me if I know about Salmonella. I reply that yes, I do know about it and how to clean up after chicken. My mother taught me. Apparently this is not the right answer so she starts to teach me about it and how to clean up after chicken. I walked out. That was the closest I have come to tearing into that woman.

Turns out, she breads and Fries her chicken and once it is cooked she puts it in the oven covered in barbecue sauce and bakes it. The breading becomes soggy and I found it quite gross. My husband said she never cooked it that way before (in fact, she didn't cook for him much at all when he was growing up). I've asked quite a few people and no one has ever heard of doing barbecue chicken this way. Of course, maybe they were just being nice.He had to talk to her about taking over the kitchen and how she talks to me. I used to let it go but I just couldn't take it anymore after this episode. Now she doesn't speak to me at all and I quite like it. I'm so over the "pleasing the MIL" phase. She hasn't come back to our house since. I secretly hope she never does. We get along much better when we don't see or hear each other.

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#13. Dear MIL,

I thought, since it was your 60th birthday, the least I could do was get you something. Since you are so picky, I figured a picture frame with your five children's names engraved on it would be nice, something you couldn't complain about. I thought about adding our kid's names, your only grandkids, but didn't want to leave our future as-yet-unborn grandchildren. I even left off my name and your other daughter-in-law's name, so you couldn't complain about the three siblings who weren't yet married. So imagine my surprise when we visited you, three months after your birthday, and the picture frame is still wrapped in bubble wrap sitting on the junk pile on the kitchen counter. You didn't want to hang it up because the whole family wasn't listed, you said. You couldn't hang it up because you didn't have any pictures of your five kids all together, you said. (Forget the entire hall of fame in your hallway in which you could have picked any picture.) Son #4 said he'd pick one for you off of your computer, which he proceeded to print ASAP. And now, almost 6 weeks later, on yet another visit, I see it still sits empty, though now on the hutch in the dining room, with the picture laying underneath it. How horribly busy you must be as to not be able to find the time to actually place the picture INSIDE the frame! Next year, maybe I'll just buy myself something nice for putting up with you.

Love, DIL

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#14. Dear MIL,

Thank you for saying in the presence of your granddaughter that you "just like boys better". Even though she is only two, hopefully, I pray, she cannot yet understand your words. She only sees you once every 3 or 4 months. Of course she is not going to run to you for a big hug, especially after sitting in the car for 7 hours and not getting a nap. You'd think a grandmother could understand that. Maybe if you even tried to get down to her level, or to let her warm up a bit. You don't need to turn your back on her in a huff and comment about how she must not like you. Oh, poor poor Grandma, better milk that sorrow for all that it's worth. Hmm, how about listening to her when she talks to you on the phone, instead of commenting on what someone else's grandSONS are up to these days. How about giving her some time to get used to you, then snuggling up on the couch with her to read a book, like your sainted husband does? I'm glad he loves her - and doesn't act like showing it will kill him. If you ever make her feel unloved or unwanted, I will make your life a living hell. See, now, to me, that would just be as simple as not letting you see her anymore. But maybe that's what you want, after all.

Love, DIL

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#15. Dear MIL,

I realize that our children, your ONLY grandchildren, will never hold a candle to your niece's children, because you tell us this every time we talk. Let me count the ways:

If only we home schooled our children - forget the fact that they are 2 years old and 4 months old and not yet even old enough for school.

If only I made them matching sailor suits to wear EVERY TIME we left the house so they would be easier to spot in a crowd. Creepy, no?

If only I could simply raise my eyebrows at them to get them to calm down. I don't want my children to be scared of me. When I changed one of the nephew's diapers one time, the poor kid's bottom was black and blue. Do you really need to spank an 11 month old that hard? Does it make it easier in the future then so that you only have to raise your eyebrows and they think about what will happen if they don't sit down and shut up?

If only I didn't get them immunized, because that will cause autism, it's only a matter of time. Yeah, when sainted niece's kids get the bubonic plague or chicken pox or polio, get them some essential oils - that always works.

If only I could see how bad modern medicine is, then we could cancel our health insurance and pay out of pocket to go to a chiropractor, because they are the only doctors that are "good". Hell, if they found a way to cure your one year old great-nephew's gas problems, they must be miracle workers, right?

If only we owned a suburban - or two - because the bigger the vehicle the safer the home-schooled-sailor-suit wearing children would be. Forget the fact that we live in the city, not in the boondocks, and driving a vehicle that size would be a headache and a half to park. Forget the fact that we have only two children, so we don't even need a vehicle that large. Forget that it wouldn't fit in our garage. Forget that we couldn't afford the gas for it.

BUT...if we had a motor home without seatbelts, that would be okay, because you can home school in a motor home. And everyone knows that while home schooling your sailor suit wearing children in a motor home, the laws of physics will keep you safe from car accidents and the like.

I could go on and on, but I digress. I need to go hug my little ones and make up for the love lost from you. Thank God for my own parents - amazing that they could love their own grandchildren in spite of everything listed above!

All my love, DIL

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#16. Every day, for the two weeks, while she was visiting us over the Christmas vacation, she would say to me, “You’re hurting. Aren’t you?” as if couldn'tuldn’t wait for me to be in pain. I think she would revel in the day that she saw me struck down by pain and/or depression as much as she is.
Me:
Day 1: “No. I’m fine.”
Day 2: “I’m fine. Really.”
Day 3: “I’m not ‘hurting’.”
Day 4: “I’m fine.”
Day 5: “I’m fine.”
Day 6: “I am not ‘hurting’.”
Day 7: “No.”
Day 8: “No.”
Day 9: “No.”
Day 10: “No.”
Day 11: “No. I. Am. Fine.”
Day 12: I ignore her and roll my eyeballs at my husband.
Day 13: “NO. I’m ffffffffffffffffffffffffine.”
Day 14: “Why do you always say that? Look at my face. This is when I’m hurting.” (Make ugly expression of pain.) “Look at me now. This is my normal face. My happy and relaxed face. I am NOT HURTING. You’ll know when I hurting. Believe me!”
Her: “OK. I won’t ask you that anymore.”
Me: “Good.”
Her: “One day when you’re really hurting you’ll regret that I don’t ask you anymore. You’ll have no one that cares about you.”
Me: “WTF.”
Epilogue: Upon further reflection, she may have been right. I was hurting. It’s just so painful to have her around that long!

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#17. Sunday, we went to Bob Evans for lunch with the inlaws. I was at one end of the table with the Man and the Monkey, and my MIL. Ace was down by his Dad and Queen.

Whenever we order ANYthing at Bob's, the rolls and biscuits are split up and shared.I order the Chicken and Noodles, and it came with two dinner rolls. I knew that I would be sharing with the Man and the Monkey. Biscuits were delivered to the other end of the table. I think they were my MIL's, but my FIL received them for some unknown reason. As soon as Queen saw the biscuits, she immediately asked him if she could have some. He said no. Yes. You read that right. He said no. But wait ... it gets MUCH better.

The Monkey sees my rolls, and I was about ready to start buttering it. Ace then asks me if I could pass the TWO dinner rolls that were in my basket.I thought "hey ... if the selfishness worked for my FIL, it will work for me, right?" Wrong. Dead wrong. No you may not have them. They are mine, I replied. Ace got a little salty. Ok. More than a little. A LOT salty.Fine. Never mind. I just thought that we could ask for more rolls. Never mind. All this time, the Monkey is dipping her hand in my salad, pulling out her selection of lettuce and croutons. So I was a little mad that it was assumed that I would be the one who would share my bread with everyone. Ok. More than a little mad ... a lot mad.

I looked at him and told him that I had people at my end of the table who wanted part of a roll, and that I also had one of them dipping their hand in my salad at that very moment. So my MIL decided to take things into her own hands and offer her solution to Dinner Roll Smackdown 2006, the very last one of the year. Her solution?Passing MY basket of rolls down the table to her son, she stated matter-of-factly "we will BUY more rolls. Just have some."Oh yes she did. Yes. She did.

#18. When I was pregnant with my daughter (my MIL's first grandchild), my MIL went overboard buying gifts and bringing them to our house. About a month before the baby was born, my MIL came and took back all of the gifts to keep at her house. She told me it was her leverage to get us to come visit her. Along the same lines, she buys gifts for birthdays, Christmas, etc. for our daughter, wraps them up, brings them to our house, then takes them back home with her after her grandchild opens them and gets all excited.

#19. My daughter has 2 main problems: eczema and constipation. They are both easily solved: special lotion and laundry detergent for the first, and cutting back on dairy for the second. My MIL is aware of how sever both problems can be if these rules are not followed. However, I picked my daughter up from her house one day and she was eating cheese, drinking milk, and wearing clothes that had been washed in Tide (because my MIL liked the smell of her detergent better).

#20. My MIL confided in me that my husband's father is not the man who raised him his whole life. My husband doesn't even know this and she expects me to carry this secret around.

No. 1 - First Edition: Stories From You, By You

#1. Where do I even begin...how about the "thank you" note I received after I made my evil MIL a fab scrapbook (expensive too) for her 50th b-day:

Dear M&K,

I had asked that we forego gifts at this time since they can create expectations that might stress an already tenuous situation. However, I will trust that the gift and my thanks will be respected for the spirit with which they are intended. The scrapbook is very nice and, for me, the hope for better memories with you.
M, I do appreciate having had time to talk. Dad and I valued your candor, conversation and chance to find common ground. We continue to see your strength and focus on your goals and admire you. You have risen from whatever adversity you have faced and we are proud of you.
K, I hope to be able to sit and talk alone with you to learn and understand you. For M to be happy with you, there must be a good side. I welcome learning that.
Thanks again,

Mom

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#2. [At Christmas] there were some packages at our door. From the in-laws. For M & L. Specifically. Even the Harry & David box of pears didn't have my name on them. I guess that's ok, cuz I really don't care for pears any way.
The cards were for M. There were pics of the "family" that were taken at the SIL's HS graduation, professional, framed pics. Thank goodness there were none including the BIL's wife. There was even a pic of BO, the new nephew.
It just didn't come across as very nice and there was nothing for MJ either.
She came out and said, "I didn't think I had to do anything for Katrina [the author of this entry]. Why would I?"

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#3. [MIL] NEVER mentions or asks about MJ, as she seemed a bit disappointed we were still pg with one baby after losing Tiny. She just doesn't want me giving M any more kids and keeping him "bound" to me.

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#4. I had been dating my then-boyfriend (now husband) for several years when we got engaged and were trying to pick a date for our wedding. (A year in advance) His sister had been dating her boyfriend for several months and had announced after dating him for 10 weeks that they would be married within the year (he hadn't actually asked her yet, but she was THAT SURE). My soon-to-be mother-in-law told us we couldn't have the date or month that we wanted because it would be too close to his sister's wedding. That wasn't even official yet. And we were engaged first. And had been dating way longer.

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#5. Even though I had a miscarriage one month before, my in laws never said one thing about it to me when they visited this fall. Well, I did get a generic "how do you feel".

We went out to eat one night and my mother in law was all over my son, cuddling him and carrying him which was sweet but a little over the top. When my husband said something about it to her she said, "I have to cuddle him, he is my last Grandchild."

No matter the wound was still fresh from my miscarriage but she never even asked if we were going to try again, which we were going to at the time.

It seemed like such a mean thing to say to me.

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#6. My husband and I sent my in-laws (his parents) some pictures by email. Among these pictures was one where I am sitting on the floor with the dogs. Mother-in-law calls to tell my husband that they got the pictures. (He related the conversation to me later.)

This is their conversation...

Before she said anything about if she liked the pictures or not, she actually asked my husband if I was planning on growing my hair out any time soon.
Husband - What, mom?
MiL - Well, she is keeping her hair awfully short and you know women really shouldn't keep their hair short. It always looks better long.
Husband - While it's nice when Blue's hair is long, her hair also looks really cute when it's short. And besides, it's HER hair and she can style it how ever she wants.
MiL - But it really would be better if she grew it back out. Girls just don't look right with short hair.
Husband - She likes it mom. And I am not going to tell her how to do her hair. But did you even like the pictures? Aren't the dogs cute? I think that the picture with Blue and the dogs was really cute.

She didn't answer. She never even commented on whether or not she liked the pictures. She changed the subject and then quickly had something else come up so she had to let him go. As a side thought, my mom and I did have a good time discussing getting a bald cap and putting it on and taking some pictures to send to them. Or dying it a weird color or getting a strange colored wig. It made the weirdness of it all easier.

We recently went out to see my in-laws for Christmas and my hair was again a topic of conversation. This time, my mother-in-law usually waited until my husband wasn't around to comment. I got a lot more of "are you planning on growing your hair out again?" "Now why exactly do you like short hair again?" " Don't you feel sort of 'boyish' with you hair like that?" I generally just told her that yes, my hair is short. I like it this way. Not only that, it is easier to style and faster when I get ready in the mornings. It is my hair and I will do it the way I want to. I don't tell her how to do her hair.

Finally, after trying to be polite with my answers and not having anything else make her stop I responded to " Don't you feel sort of 'boyish' with you hair like that?" with "Don't you feel sort of 'old' with hair like that?" That got her good and she left me alone for a while!

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#7. The morning of my wedding, as my husband-to-be was getting dressed in his hotel room, his mother approached him, put her hands on each of his shoulders and cried, "How can you do this to me?" Her husband quickly ushered her away and told her to be quiet. My husband didn't share this story with me until we'd been married for seven years. By then, my mother-in-law had racked up enough bad points that another one wouldn't matter.

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#8. My husband and I bought our first house and had a Memorial Day party/BBQ to celebrate. As she was hugging and kissing my husband goodbye, he said, "Next time you come visit we'll have to see the sights together." She looked him dead in the face and said, "Oh, I don't think I will ever come to your house again." No idea why...and I don't care enough to find out.

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#9. My two sons were stillborn...we had to have funerals under Ohio law...she didn't come to either. She left her own son to stand there in theat cemetery...burying his children alone...twice.

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#10. Ever since my FIL and MIL divorced when my husband was young my MIL has lived alone. She loves to read and have the TV on. I can understand, I like to have noise in my house when I am home alone too. She has lived alone a long time and she is used to having things her way. Unfortunately, when she comes to visit us she still feels entitled to watch whatever she wants while she reads her book. A

lso, she refuses to sleep in the guest room. She insists upon sleeping in the den on the couch, in front of the TV. The TV must be on all night long. Also, this prevents us from staying up late or getting up early to watch something. If we steal the remote or ask to watch something else she gets all upset and complains the WHOLE time. "Why are you watching this crap?" "This is mindless TV?" "I can't believe you actually watch this?" However, she is a ravenous soap opera watcher.

I'm really not a TV addict but it is just miserable feeling like you can't do something in your own home for fear of getting a lecture. She doesn't ever want to go out and do things with us - so the whole time she is there everything revolves around the TV. I'm an adult and I don't need commentary on my TV preferences. I just hate the feeling that someone has come in and taken over my home.

Delurk and UNITE!

We only catch brief glimpses of some of our readers' MILDEW problems, but we would love to hear more so we can provide the appropriate balance between snark and support to those of you unfortunate enough not to have a MIL that brings you sugar cookies every Saturday afternoon and who tells you that you are the best thing that's happened to her son since he was born.

So, in honor of National Delurking Week 2007, send your best MILDEW stories to ddknockedup at yahoo dot com and I will post them anonymously on your behalf. Send as many stories as you like. We will post them in installments of 10. We should easily get at least 10 stories, right?

C'mon ladies (and men)! It'll be cathartic. You know you want to! Don't be shy. There's no deadline, but the sooner you send me your story, the sooner you'll see it here!

Not All MILs Were Well-Behaved

New Year's weekend, we lost electricity to our home. The first night we spent in a hotel unaware that the storm's affect would take days to resolve. The second night, my husband explained to his mother that again we were displaced. She suggested we stay at their home. A kind enough offer, which we have had to repeatedly turn down on other types of occassions due to my allergies and their cats.

He reminded her again about my allergies. The woman, true to herself, turned hostile and said, "Fine. Go home and freeze."

I believe the correct response, dear MIL, would have been to either offer to help defer the cost of another hotel stay (which your son would have graciously declined even though you shit money) or to wish us a simple good luck and then shut your big, bitter mouth.

And I swear, if she tells me to "shut your kid up" one more time, I'll jack her. I don't care if she's 83.